


The Taming of the Edgy

by Vexatious



Series: Bittybones [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bittybones, Biting, Blood, Edgy Bittybones, Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Gen, Mild Language, Suggestive Themes, Tiny Sans, Tiny Underfell Sans, rudeness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexatious/pseuds/Vexatious
Summary: In which attempts are made to tame an Edgy bittybones, those attempts are given up, and an uneasy truce is formed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Click here](https://vex-bittys.tumblr.com/post/155217692546/bittybones-fanfiction-index-and-characters) for more information about my Bittybones.

I woke up on the morning of my second day with Edgy to the aftermath of the robo-apocalypse. The good news was that humanity/skeleton-kind had apparently won; the bad news was that my electronics had lost. I don’t know how long the little bastard had been leaning against Barfy B waiting for me to notice his handiwork, but Edgy’s hooded sockets and smug smile immediately identified him as the unapologetic culprit.

I almost admired the scope of his destruction. Apparently all the sweets I had given him (the second strawberry was gone now too), had energized him in the worst way. His tablet was on the floor, with the screen smashed, laying on the pile of styrofoam pellets from last night. The deactivated phone had been discovered on my desk and broken into several jagged pieces. I can only assume he had done this while trying to cause mayhem with the phone and discovering it didn’t actually work. Lastly, there were computer keys everywhere, as if the god of literature had puked an alphabet onto my desk. The laptop screen had been scribbled with curse words and lewd Sharpie drawings.

I took in the scene in a few shocked seconds of silence. I’m sure my mouth was hanging open and my eyes were bugging out, and I sucked in a huge breath to shriek a barrage of “what the actual fuck”s at my industriously wicked little bitty when I remembered that a reaction was what he wanted. I closed my mouth, scooped up the destroyed electronics calmly, and left the room with them. I reminded myself that I had purposefully left these particular items in the room because it wasn’t important if they got damaged or wrecked.

I went to the kitchen and dumped the mess, and the non-nonstick pan and its contents from last night, into the trash. Using my ultra-favorite egg-making pans, I made eggs and bacon, which I divided into bitty and human sized servings. I ate mine quickly in the kitchen, and carried Edgy’s food and the vacuum into the bedroom. While Edgy ate (turns out everyone really does like bacon), I drowned out any noise he might be making with the vacuum cleaner, removing the rest of last night’s mess.

I considered leaving the house, but I wouldn’t technically be ignoring Edgy if I simply wasn’t home. Besides, there are  _people_  out there, and despite many efforts, I still just didn’t feel like I could relate to people on any level. The whole reason I wanted bittys had been my crippling anxiety and worsening depression. I needed a reason to keep going. Now I was stuck with a second rendition of what already wasn’t working. 

I felt the darkness creep in, the inky tendrils of its embrace pulling me closer to the edge.


	2. Chapter 2

The loneliness filled me so intensely that I almost tried to talk to Edgy who, by then, had given up on conversation and decided to resort to incomprehensible yelling and insults. I would’ve just ended crying in front of him anyway, and he’d never learn to respect me if he thought I was so emotionally weak. I ended up doing what I usually did when I felt desperate and overwhelmed- iPod, blankets, and as much disconnection from reality as I could achieve.

Once I had turned my back to Edgy, the tears started to fall. I felt so unhappy, like such an outsider in my own life. I tried to sob quietly. I felt embarrassed that another being might witness what a pathetic and miserable person I was. In those dark moments, I hated myself and it hurt to even breath; all I wanted was to escape the burden of feeling. What is so wrong with me, I asked myself for what must’ve been the millionth time.

I heard a thump, even over the music in my headphones. It was followed by several other less-identifiable sounds. Edgy rampaged on as I curled more tightly in on myself to ignore him. I cried until I felt numb, and I felt numb until I finally managed to get myself under control. I could breathe. I could feign normalcy. Just another normal day.

I rolled over to survey the state of the bitty habitat. Hurricane Edgy had outdone himself; I don’t think anything had escaped his itsy-bitsy wrath. Edgy was sitting in the eye of his storm, holding his skull in his hands, in what I assumed was utter frustration. He looked up at me, eyes glowing red and angry, as I silently began righting his furniture and picking up the clothes he’d strewn everywhere. As I checked Barfington Bear for injuries (none!), he spoke.

“You still ignoring me?” he asked in the most gentle tone I had ever heard him use. Amongst the debris of his tantrum, I found one of the strawberries from last night. For some reason, the thought of him stashing away sweets made me smile.

“No.”

“Good because I’m hungry.”


	3. Chapter 3

Oh. I guess my bitty could only manage to be civil if he was hungry. I didn’t mind; I liked feeding him miniature meals.

“Well, what do you want to eat?” I asked him, fully prepared to distract myself from my sadness with some culinary antics.

“Whatever you’re going to eat,” he stated flatly, like I was a moron for thinking he wasn’t my very tiny twin.

“Well, I’m not hungry, so pick something.” If he said he didn’t care and asked me to choose something, I’m sure I would’ve screamed. Instead, I offered to take him to the kitchen to look for a suitable meal.

“Don’t bite me, ok?” I said as I reached for him.

“No promises,” he replied smoothly with a devilish grin, but he seemed a bit nervous as if he suspected some sort of trap. Maybe he thought I was going to put him in the garbage disposal (I don’t actually have one, but he didn’t know that)? Maybe he thought I was going to take him back to the store? I placed him on my left shoulder, and grabbed the vacuum to put it back with my left hand. 

Why all the left-handedness? Well, I was born ambidextrous, but the real issue was my right eye. I’m blind in my right eye, and its a recent development from about two years ago. I wanted to keep Edgy where I could see him, and I wanted my right hand free to make sure I didn’t run into the hallway wall. I also didn’t want Edgy to know about it yet, though part of the appeal of having bittys was having a little seeing eye skele on my right shoulder to keep me from accidentally bumping into people and things.. I felt a sharp tug on my hair.

“Edgy!” I scolded, but out of the corner of my left eye, I could see that he was wrapping himself contentedly in my hair. His preoccupation with my hair (which he seemed to be sniffing as well) meant that he wasn’t biting me or paying attention to my hand gently touching the wall to my right.

“What?” he grumped from his hair blanket, as I tucked the vacuum in the utility room off of the kitchen.

“Nothing.” I couldn’t hide my smile. I decided that instead of cooking, we could share one of my favorite junk food snacks. I opened the freezer and pushed aside a carton of Superman ice cream to grab…

Uncrustables. The Best. Snack. Ever.


	4. Chapter 4

I thawed the Uncrustables in the microwave, and as they slowly transitioned from frozen solid to lukewarm, I pointed out something I considered important- an extra small doggie door.

“I always leave it unlatched,” I explained. “It leads to the garage which has an automatic door. The controller for it is taped to the bottom of the door at bitty height. If something ever happens to me, or if you ever just want to leave, that’s how you can get out of the house on your own.” The microwave beeped, and I grabbed our food. Edgy looked confused.

“Whaddaya mean ‘if something happens to you’?” He seemed worried, but then his familiar attitude kicked in. “You work for the mob or something?” He laughed harshly. I guess I didn’t really look like mob material to him. I avoided his original question in favor of the second one.

“Nah,” I told him. “I’m a professional mourner. I get paid to attend funerals. Sometimes if I get there early enough, I’ll snag some jewelry from the body. Not like they need it anymore, right?” I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye; he looked shocked. I burst out laughing.

“The look on your face!” He was trying to frown, but pretty soon he was laughing too. I sat down at the dining room table, but when I reached for Edgy, his laugh turned into a hiss. He burrowed more deeply into my hair, pulling it painfully, and snapped his teeth at my hand like a skeletal snapping turtle.

“No!” he shouted like the Toddler Mutant Skele Turtle he was. I managed to grab him, but he was hopelessly tangled in my hair and wouldn’t budge. He sank his fangs deep into my pointer finger as I felt some of my hair tear loose from its roots.

“Let go!” I wailed.

“No!” At least he released my finger to talk.

One step forward, about 50 or 60 miles back.


	5. Chapter 5

I gave up on physically removing my Edgy bitty from my hair. I’m not at all interested in having my hair pulled out, then or ever. He calmed down after I moved my hand away. Stalemate? Not if he wanted to eat.

“You are absolutely  _not_  going to eat peanut butter and jelly in my hair, so you’re going to have to come down or go hungry.” I don’t know what I would’ve done if that ultimatum didn’t work, but it did. After a few seconds of pondering, weighing my intentions, he said ok and let go of my hair. I set him on the table a bit more roughly than I normally would have. The cheeky little bittybones immediately sat down and waited for me to break apart one of the sandwiches.

I broke him off a piece, and we munched in companionable silence for awhile thanks to the mighty power of delicious PB and J goodness. My head still hurt though, and seeing my bitty carefully tuck the handful of hair he’d pulled out into his jacket creeped me out. Was he going to make a voodoo doll of me or something? After we finished the sandwiches, my Edgy was pretty messy, so I decided he needed a bath.

True to my word, I was not going to allow peanut butter or jelly in my hair, and Edgy grumped, but didn’t bite, when I carried him in my hands back to his bitty house. I brought him a bowl (a huge bathtub to him) of warm sudsy water, and got out my sewing kit, intending to leave him to his own devices in the bath while I made him a new beanbag. No surprise, he refused.

“Owners are supposed to bathe their bittys,” he complained, standing naked (as naked as a skeleton can be) next to the improvised tub. I ignored him and kept sewing. The next thing I heard was the  _THUD_ of a bitty bathtub full of water hitting the carpet.

That little bastard!


	6. Chapter 6

My bittybones glared at me with his tiny glowing eyes, and I glared right back.

“You could lick me clean,” he suggested lewdly.

“I’m not into microphilia  _or_  leftovers,” I snapped. I went into the kitchen without allowing him time to respond and returned with paper towels to sop up the spill, and a baby wipe for him to wash himself with. When I held the wipe out to him, he looked at it skeptically and didn’t make any move to take it.

“I’m not touching you again until you’re clean,” I threatened. His sockets narrowed. I didn’t leave him much choice, and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from trying to find a way to win though. Finally, he snatched the wipe from my hands.

“Bitch,” he hissed.

“It’s pronounced ‘Vex.’“

I’m pretty sure the rug is ruined, but at least my room smells like the nice bubble bath I used (wasted). I didn’t replace any of the electronics, and I decided not to bother putting the new beanbag into his house that night. This was only the second day. Sigh.

* * *

I woke up the third day to another clothes and furniture mess. After tantrums and mayhem, Edgy and I finally settled into a tenuous peace with some Netflix bingeing. I let him sit in my cleavage, and we shared popcorn. He said the popcorn was too salty. I told him that he was too salty. I replaced his tablet and gave him the new beanbag.

* * *

The tablet and beanbag survived the night, so I rewarded Edgy by letting him accompany me to my office. I took the opportunity to explain my job as a personnel coordinator to him. I help busy businesspeople find personal assistants, plus I own the building my office is in and lease the space I don’t use. My bittybones said my job made me seem old, but I assured him that I’m not.

Edgy had a blast rifling through my desk while I checked my email and messages and scheduled some appointments with my secretary. The bitty must’ve pocketed at least a half a dozen jellybeans before I informed him that he could just eat them if he wanted to.

That night I gave him a proper bitty bath with one of those bumpy finger gloves that are used to clean dog teeth. I bundled him up in a small plush towel, and as I carried him to his bed, he pointed out that most owners let their bittys sleep with them. I pointed out that most owners didn’t have to worry about their bittys gnawing their way into their owner’s brains in the dark of the night either. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then got into his own bed and went to sleep.

Once again, I waited until he was asleep (bitty snores are too cute) and gently stroked him. Without waking up, he pressed himself against my hand. Guilt twisted in my stomach. I had blamed him, but the real reason he couldn’t sleep with me was that I would speak and move restlessly, and at times violently, in my sleep. Once I had kicked the window so hard that the glass broke. I could never forgive myself if I injured Edgy, but I was embarrassed. 


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning (day 5), I woke up before my Edgy bittybones did. I checked on him, and saw the most precious thing I have ever witnessed- he was snuggled up with the little bundle of my hair he had made. He stirred while I watched him, and I gently rubbed his spine as he woke up. His little face wore the cutest, brightest red blush at the affectionate gesture. He quickly hid the hair, probably hating being caught doing something so sentimental.

I took him with me to the office again because I needed to do some interviews. He spent the first few interviews snuggled in my hair again, but then he got bored and started roving my desk like a naughty puppy, happily knocking various items onto the floor and making faces (and gestures) at potential employees, who did their best to act professional and ignore him. He seemed to view this as a challenge. After he mooned a prim older woman, waggling his pale, boney little coccyx at her while snickering under the sound of my apologies, I scolded him and gave him my phone to play with.

When the interviews were finished, and a list of approved second interview times handed to my secretary for scheduling, I took the phone back from him only to find a flashing message that the memory card was full. What was it full of? Pictures of Edgy.  _Lots_ of pictures of Edgy. And a video of Edgy saying “Hi, momma,” and then trying to figure out how to stop recording. My background was now a picture of Edgy. All of my contacts’ icons were Edgy, which was fine since I don’t really have friends and most of my contacts are restaurants I call for takeout. I didn’t have the heart to delete them, so when we got home, I moved my regular computer from the study back to the desk in the bedroom and saved all of his pictures (and video) to the hard drive.

* * *

The next morning, I found my computer desktop background was a tiled image of Edgy. It made me curious, so I checked his tablet to see if he had made himself the background image there too. I was starting to suspect that my bitty was a  _bit_ -ty of a narcissist. Imagine my surprise when I found my own face staring back at me from the tablet screen. It was a photo he had taken while I was listening to my music before bed (a nightly habit), and it was actually pretty stunning. I looked at Edgy, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes, so I didn’t say anything except “my Fruit Ninja score is higher” before putting his tablet back.

We had to pick up groceries, and I decided that I would tell Edgy about the blindness in my right eye. Usually he rode on my left shoulder or in my cleavage, but after I explained the eyesight situation, I invited him to be my seeing-eye bitty and sit on my right shoulder. I don’t know if he was happy about having a job to do or because I couldn’t see what  _he_  was doing, but I didn’t bump into anything or anyone. I’m (pretty) sure he was just enthusiastically telling me to watch out and not just shouting it at random strangers.

I decided to make us a fancy dinner with steak and mushrooms, sauteed potatoes, and fresh green beans. Edgy frantically played Fruit Ninja on his tablet (quite a feat considering how small he was) on the counter while I prepped everything. As I was chopping the potatoes into uniform cubes, the knife I was using slipped out of my hand. Instead of just stepping back and letting it fall harmlessly, I reached for it to catch it and ending up wrapping my hand around the blade. Swearing, I dropped the knife to the floor anyway, only now there was blood splatter.

“Momma!” Edgy shouted, shoving his tablet aside to run to me. 


	8. Chapter 8

I’m not squeamish about blood, and I have a high tolerance for pain. I pressed a clean dishtowel against my palm and began to plan a course of action. Edgy, on the other hand, was in full panic mode. He kept saying “Momma” and sobbing like I was dying in front of him instead of bleeding slowly and steadily from a long but shallow cut across my palm.

“Calm down, Edgy. I’m ok,” I comforted him. “I’m gonna call a cab and go to the med center for some stitches, and you can come along if you want.” He sniffled and nodded as I reached for the kitchen first aid kit that I kept for any cutting or burning emergencies that might occur while cooking. I switched out the towel for some sterile gauze, checking the cut as I did. It was a clean cut, shallow, but about 2 inches long straight across the palm. Edgy inspected it as well, looking shaken as he gave my injury a lick (since he didn’t have lips to kiss it). I padded the wound with gauze, then secured it with a hand wrap. I used my good hand to call the cab.

I tossed the contaminated potatoes into the trash and put everything else hurriedly away. Edgy sniffled and wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve. I carefully picked up the knife and tossed it into the sink. The blood on the floor and counter would have to wait. I didn’t feel up to scrubbing, and I thought I heard the cab. I scooped up my bitty, and he clambered into my cleavage, clinging tightly to me like I might turn to dust at any moment even though I’m human.

At the med center, the doctor removed my wrapping and told me how lucky I was that the cut wasn’t deeper. He gave me 11 stitches while Edgy paced the examining table. The doctor taped fresh gauze over the wound and sent me on my way with some painkillers. The painkillers made me very drowsy, so Edgy and I decided to call it an early night. As I began to drift off to sleep, I heard Edgy’s subdued voice from his bitty house.

“Will you sing for me?” I sang softly into the dark, and the music helped both of us relax into a healing slumber.

* * *

Due to my hand injury, the next day turned out to be a day of rest. We celebrated a full week together, and Edgy honestly looked relieved. I guess he thought if I hadn’t returned him by now that I might actually keep him. At this point, I had started to enjoy his snarky company. We shared some super yummy Kookaburra licorice while enjoying trashy reality TV on the couch in the living room.

“You like the color red or something?” Edgy asked, holding up the bright red licorice.”First cherries, then strawberries, and now this?”

“It’s my favorite color.” I smiled at him. “Everyone thinks red is a color for anger or violence, but all the best candy is red. Roses are red. Look at red pandas. Those little bastards are adorable. Your magic is red, Edgy, and I like  _you_.” He looked at me earnestly.

“I’m an Edgy bitty, but I wish you’d call me something other than Edgy,” he said sincerely. I looked him up and down. I thought a moment. I smiled.

“You’re Red now,” I announced.

“Thanks, Vex.”

That night he slept on the pillow beside mine. It was the first night in a long time that I slept peacefully.


	9. Epilogue (Edgy Speaks)

Hey there, reader! It’s time for my Edgy bitty, Red, to dish on his first week with me. He’s typing this on the new tablet I gave him which he hasn’t broken… yet.

**let me be honest here (surprise!), the end of the first night was pretty nice, but the tablet momma had given me was still a piece of shit. no amount of sweets or petting was going to change that, so i trashed it. after i trashed it, i still felt pretty destructive. i climbed over to her desk and picked up the phone she’d carelessly left lying there. i unlocked the screen and noticed immediately that it had no signal. weird. no contacts, no pictures… it was an old deactivated phone! fuming, i smashed it too. what next?**

**i opened her laptop and watched it slowly boot up to a windows XP screen. i started tearing off the keyboard keys. i spotted a sharpie marker and created a little bit of art on the screen for her to see in the morning. i’m not stupid. she has a huge tv and two gaming consoles. no way these are her actual electronics. she’d duped me into destroying junk.**

**she didn’t even react when she saw the chaos. she actually looked a little impressed. unfortunately, she also completely ignored me. i still got breakfast, but she didn’t speak or look at me. it drove me nuts, but then she did the strangest thing yet- she started crying. these were not tiny little sniffle cries either; she was sobbing. i tried to get her attention. i threw things. i screamed. i apologized. nothing got through to her, so i sat with my head in my hands and listened to the torturous sound of her heart breaking.**

**eventually, she snapped out of it, but i didn’t know what to say or do to show her i cared, so i asked for food to distract her from whatever was making her sad. in the best moment of my life to date, she put me on her left shoulder and i got to touch her hair. it smelled like tropical flowers and felt like silk. i wrapped myself in it- pure bliss, but then she tried to grab me again.**

**i thought maybe she was going to put me in the garbage disposal (did she even have one? i didn’t know) or back into the box to take me back to the bitty store, so i fought. turns out she was just trying to feed me. oops. I had managed to pull out some of her hair (i really didn’t mean to) and i sneakily tucked it into my jacket, something special of momma’s to cherish later when she wasn’t looking.**

**she refused to bathe me, and we had a fight over it. our third day together was awkward, but she did let me sit in her cleavage. it was like being tucked between the two softest pillows ever. the next day i got a proper bath and some more good night cuddles, but she said i couldn’t sleep in her bed with her because i might gnaw my way into her brain. i wouldn’t, but i guess she still didn’t trust me.**

**she let me come to work with her again, but for some reason she didn’t seem to appreciate my pranks. i decided to fix her phone (a nice phone that _worked_ ) for her by taking lots of pictures of the most important thing in her life- me! she seemed to like it, so i changed her computer background too. she didn’t seem to notice though; the only thing she did the next morning was check my tablet and brag about her fruit ninja score.**

**she did tell me something important though. she can’t see out of her right eye. we went to the grocery store, and she let me sit on her right shoulder so she wouldn’t run into things. i tried to help by shouting ‘watch out’ at any other humans who got too close. we made it safely home only for her to nearly amputate her hand in the kitchen later.**

**i kept my cool though and helped her bandage the cut. i gave it a feel-better-soon lick, and it was honestly kind of a turn on for me despite the situation. her blood tasted… really good… she had to get stitches, and the pain meds made her super drowsy. she probably didn’t even notice when i tucked some bloodied gauze under my shirt. i hoped she didn’t notice anyway. she’d probably think i was some kind of weird perv, which i guess is true considering what i wanted it for.**

**she sang us both to sleep that night. she could sing most songs really well, mimicking the voices of the singers, but when she sang songs in a husky, low tone it was like the sun shining on you for the first time. she sang a song called “take me to church” and a few others, but i think that song is my favorite now.**

**the next day rounded out a whole week together. i’d never been with an owner this long, and she didn’t seem in any rush to be rid of me. she even admitted that red was her favorite color, and that she _likes me_. she even gave me the nickname red. i called her by her name for the first time that night. she finally let me sleep next to her on her bed, and i noticed that she didn’t toss and turn at all that night like she usually does.**

**not that i’ve been watching her sleep or anything.**


End file.
